


Take A Chance On Me

by Bellatores



Category: Glee
Genre: Cheerleader!Kurt, Dalton Academy, M/M, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-22 16:13:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/915299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellatores/pseuds/Bellatores
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on <a href="http://cornflakesareglutenfree.tumblr.com/post/26893470894/">this</a> gifset. A Lacrosse captain!Sebastian and cheerleader!Kurt Dalton AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take A Chance On Me

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Matt for the beta. I apologise if the French in this is not correct, also I have tried to remove any Britishisms, so sorry if I’ve missed any.

If you’d told Kurt Hummel two years ago that he’d be spending his senior year at Dalton Academy for Boys in Westerville, he would have laughed in your face and told you that you were having a particularly nice day dream. The fact he’d got one of the highest scholarship marks of the last decade was just the icing on the cake and had only been topped by the news he’d be rooming with one Blaine Anderson. The downside of feeling like you were on cloud nine however was that you could be knocked off very easily by a fast flying bird or an errant gust of wind. A gust of wind in the form of Sebastian Smythe.

Kurt is a little put out to find that Blaine hasn’t arrived yet, that he wouldn’t be arriving until Sunday, when his mother leaves for Australia on business, but also that the school has managed to put him in the wrong French class, so he hasn’t got his timetable yet. Lacking company, Kurt goes into the senior commons to find very few people there and even fewer people he actually knows, so he just finds a squidgy chair in a corner and settles down into it, using texting Mercedes as an excuse to look busy. Sebastian is the only other Warbler in the room, accompanied as he often is by a few lacrosse teammates who are occupying the sofas and chaises in the center of the room. Kurt doesn’t pretend to know or like Sebastian; he’d transferred after Kurt, and his entry into the Warblers had been somewhat unusual, (there’d been no bird for Sebastian, no audition or vote, instead just an announcement by David, ‘Sebastian is joining us from a school in Paris, make sure you are nice to him’). Kurt would have listened to David if Sebastian hadn’t singled Blaine out after practice and flirted shamelessly with him, using lines that sounded as if he’d lifted them from a cheesy dating show. Suffice to say that after that Kurt and Sebastian had become verbal sparring partners, always dishing out their best insults with matching airs of distaste.

Kurt’s thoughts were interrupted by Mike O’Connell, the school loudmouth, who burst into the room, sending one of the heavy oak doors banging against the wall in his wake. Kurt winces.

“Sebastian! Congrats man, Davis just told me you’re lacrosse captain.”

Sebastian hesitates; people often froze up around Mike, as if he was a bee that had landed unwantedly on their heads.

“You can only be more popular now then, right? Maybe you should follow Luke Greyson’s example and start dating a cheerleader!” jokes Mike.

Luke Greyson was the new captain of Dalton’s polo team, which, as the sport the school put most emphasis on, meant its captain could expect to climb to the top of the social ladder, while the captains of the lesser sports like lacrosse, soccer and swimming came just a few rungs below. It wasn’t that the captains were the only popular students at Dalton - popularity could be achieved through academic and musical success too - they were merely more popular than your average students. Kurt was just grateful those in the arts weren’t greeted with a dousing in red dye #2, he could only imagine trying to explain that to their dorm nurse.

“He doesn’t want to do that,” adds one of the other lacrosse players, “whatshername, the captain of the cheerleading team seems like far too much work.” The small crowd of boys appear to find this very funny.

If Kurt wasn’t busy being outraged on poor Sylvia’s behalf, he would admit the other boy had a point, Sylvia was the definition of peppy and often got so annoyed that the team couldn’t get her ridiculously ambitious routines that her face took on the red hue of someone eating a very hot chilli.

“High maintenance isn’t a problem for me, I like a challenge,” Sebastian says, full of bravado.

“Shame she’s not your type!” one of the other boys laughs, the joke good-natured rather than cruel. Kurt only wishes the jocks at Mckinely were like that.

“Kurt’s not a girl.”

“That’s true,” Sebastian replies in an assessing tone.

Kurt doesn’t look up from his phone. “Don’t even think about it, Smythe.”

“But Kurt,” says Sebastian, sickeningly sweetly, “I’m captain of the Lacrosse team, you’re a cheerleader, we’re meant to be together - it’s a teen movie come true.”

Kurt hesitates for just a fraction of a second and Sebastian smirks, taking it as serious consideration of his offer. The next sentence bypasses his brain on its way out of his mouth.

“You’re going to have to give a less pathetically clichéd reason for me to waste time on you than that.”

“Oh, like you’re not a walking cliché yourself Hummel - if you were any more fabulous we could shake you and use the dust to fly.”

“I doubt you could, that would require you to actually be capable of happy thoughts,” Kurt retorts.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Kurt stands up. “It means you’re cynical!”

“I’d rather be cynical than someone who thinks he can just naively waltz through life, shaking his pom-poms and believing everything is glitter and unicorns.”

Not willing to listen any longer, Kurt strides from the room, leaving behind five laughing lacrosse players in his wake.

“At least he didn’t say no,” says Mike and is promptly hit on the arm.

********************************

It would be a lie to say that Kurt wasn’t still reeling from Sebastian’s proposal the next time he took to the field with the girls for their Friday practice. He’s sure the others notice he’s slightly distracted, but if they do they don’t mention it. Sylvia has choreographed a new routine which, as usual, is far too complex. Maybe he can talk to Rob about asking her to tone it down - less is more, after all. They’re halfway through ‘the dance of the maniacs’ as Kurt is calling it when Sebastian jogs past, ahead of his teammates on the track. Sebastian raises a hand and waves, face twisted in that knowing smirk Kurt finds so infuriating. In fact, he’s so busy being infuriated he nearly doesn’t catch Danni when she tumbles down from her place atop the pyramid. She notices and giggling, mutters something to the girls beside her.

“Sebastian Smythe, really Kurt?” admonishes Nadine, definitely the most motherly of the girls in the Crawford Day/Dalton Squad.

Kurt swears he hears someone say Sebastian is out of his league before Marie cuts across the rabble loudly. “He’s obviously interested, he just waved to Kurt.” The girls’ giggling gets louder, and while usually Kurt would revel in being the center of attention, something about the girls dissecting Sebastian’s intentions unsettles him. They head inside shortly after that, knowing Coach Lansing will need the field for soccer soon, and stop to rest on the benches and drink their water.

“I’d be careful, Kurt” advises Nadine in her most maternal tone. “Especially after everything that happened at his old school.”

“Yeah, I heard that he’s apparently slept with half the year,” adds Michelle.

“I always really liked him,” Janey pauses over-dramatically, “before.”

“Before what?” asks Kurt, annoyed that the whole team seems to be talking in riddles.

“Before Guy Vincent told us a few things about Sebastian’s….less than spotless history,” says Janey with an air of someone talking to a very small child.

Mark’s face is indignant. “We don’t know that rumor is true.”

“What rumor?” says Kurt, curiosity getting the better of him.

Janey looks as if smoke is going to start exuding from her nostrils at Mark’s dissent. “Well fine, but it didn’t sound like Guy was making it up; he overheard one of the teachers telling the Dean everything”. Kurt hated when Janey got on her high horse, he wondered how long it would take for them to talk her down this time, but with Janey nothing except grovelling usually worked.

Kurt raises his voice. “What rumor”

“That he seduced the Principal’s son at his Catholic school in Paris and that the principal caught them,” said Janey, clearly in her element.

Apparently Mark was not content to leave the argument there. “If Sebastian was as bad as you say he is, he would have been kicked off the lacrosse team already, but everyone seems to like him too.”

“Everyone likes a bad boy,” pipes up Michelle with a wink in Kurt’s direction. When Kurt had first arrived at Dalton, Michelle had been one of his first friends. Whether this was because she reminded him strongly of Santana was anyone’s guess.

Ignoring Michelle, Janey argues on, “You know why Sebastian is still on the team, Wallingford. One; Coach Lancing is an old drunk and completely unaware of anything the boys get up to and two, if he got rid of Sebastian he’d lose any chance of keeping the trophy this year.”

Mark opens his mouth to reply but is punched in the arm by Susie, the vice-captain, who looks towards Janey and rolls her eyes. Mark screws up his face, holding back giggles.

Nadine appears at Kurt’s side. “I’d still be careful of Sebastian, Kurt.”

“He’ll be fine, mother hen. Kurt and Sebastian are big boys, they can handle themselves just fine,” Susie teases.

Michelle leers, “I’m sure he handles…..” she stops when she sees Sylvia glaring at her; even Michelle knows it’s not a good idea to get on the wrong side of their captain.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” says Sylvia in a tone that brooks no contradiction, “Anyway, Kurt’s got the hots for Anderson.” Somewhere in the back of his mind, Kurt’s vaguely aware he’s blushing.

“Good choice,” says Janey sanctimoniously.

“You gonna do anything about your ‘clearly visible from space’ crush?” chimes in Michelle.

“You should write a poem.”

“Sing a song?”

“Buy him a present!”

“Take him for a picnic!”

The girls and Mark finish interjecting ideas only to be silenced by a Michelle very much in her element. “I don’t know about those crazy ass ideas, but how about you ask Mr tall…Mr pint-sized, dark and handsome to the Founders Day Ball?”

“That’s perfect, Kurt, you could go out after and everything,” Janey squeals.

Kurt must look confused because Marilee starts expounding on the tradition of holding a masquerade summer ball in honor of the founding of the school by Lord Dalton. The conversation moves onto the girls faux regency style gowns, which all have to be in pale colors, again, according to school tradition. Kurt is only too happy to give them advice, glad the topic has changed from his love life to the discussion of who would look better in an empire style dress, and how the dress code is perfect for Danni’s beautiful olive skin. Danni blushes at his comment, punching him in the arm conspiratorially. In between planning his own outfit (ordering a waistcoat pattern off amazon, buying the material and the accessories in light blue) the design opportunity has the power to take over his every waking minute for at least the next two weeks, but also to completely obliterate any thought of Sebastian Smythe.

Maybe he spoke too soon.

He shuffles into the locker room after practice in a daze, shoving his pom-poms into his locker and thinking of the low-cal cherry pie that awaits him at home. And that’s when Sebastian shows up. He is certainly not in a mood to tolerate Sebastian’s particular brand of annoying, but then when is he ever? Kurt is just about to tell Sebastian this before he realizes the other boy isn’t even in his personal space, he’s sitting on the nearby bench, his sports bag dumped beside him, scrubbing a hand over his face, clearly as exhausted as Kurt feels. Sebastian has mussed a hand through his hair now, not that Kurt is watching, and it has made the brunet strands stick up at funny angles, which is adorable, but also sort of hot. What? Kurt isn’t usually one for regretting what he thinks, he knows his own mind and is stubborn enough not to want to contradict himself, but admitting that Sebastian is hot is not something he’s willing to do, even internally.

“See something you like?” smirks Sebastian, cutting through Kurt’s internal dialogue and causing him to roll his eyes. “And back to normality,” thinks Kurt, relieved that not everything has turned upside down. He doesn’t dignify Sebastian with an answer, just scoops up his stuff and heads out the door, mind back to the cherry pie and his new copy of Vogue.

****************************

The next week seems to rush by in a heady swirl of sheet music, homework and Blaine; the two boys plaster every available surface in their room with their idols, cutting the pictures out of magazines side by side.

Warblers practice hasn’t started properly yet as the first week is taken up by the council elections; David was voted as captain last year but there is still a deputy and a junior member who need to be elected. Of course, Kurt votes for Blaine. The Tuesday practice deteriorates into an argument about Blaine’s eligibility as the council can only have limited solos, but the senior spot goes to Nick anyway, although not until after a few noses have been significantly put out of joint.

Trent looks ready to burst when they announce he is the council’s junior member, and by the following Monday they are all debating….arguing over what new songs they should learn. Kurt’s had enough thirty-five minutes in, already out of suggestions (I don’t think we could get away with Copacabana, Kurt) but no-one else seems to have any good ideas.

“I think we should do Spamalot’s ‘Whatever Happened to My Part?’” whispers Trent conspiratorially from his seat to the left of Kurt.

Kurt and Trent dissolve into near hysterical giggles, earning themselves a curious look from Blaine across the room.

“That or the spice girls,” replies Kurt

“I think Nick would be an amazing Baby Spice.”

Nick pretends to be affronted, but schools his short hair into what can only be described as pigtails while Trent sings ‘Wannabe’ under his breath.

David is giving them ‘the eye’ from across the room, something all Warbler captains seem to inherit from one another, so they stop giggling and try to look productive, not willing to risk David’s ire.

In the seat next to Kurt, Sebastian doesn’t look as if he’s interested at all because he keeps glancing down at his phone every couple of seconds, seeming more agitated than bored.

Against his better judgment, Kurt leans over. “Are you alright?”

“I think there should be more doing, less talking.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow. “Of course you do,” he drawls sarcastically.

Sebastian’s phone buzzes. He swears under his breath and goes to get up.

“Sebastian, where are you going? Are you alright?”

“Aww, Kurt, I didn’t know you cared!” Something is obviously going on though, because Sebastian’s stood up and glancing towards the door. Sure enough, his phone buzzes once again and Sebastian is out of the door before most of the Warblers, who are still arguing about the possibility of covering ‘A Spoonful of Sugar’, even notice, with the exception of David and Aiden.

“Where’s he gone?”

“He’s been acting really strangely lately,” says Jim, to the now quiet room.

Nick chimes in, “it’s not acceptable for him to just storm out of practice, we still have an hour left.”

Kurt feels the need to derail this train of thought; he’s had enough glee-related drama for a lifetime already. “It’s probably just something lacrosse related,” Kurt shares a significant look with David, who seems to be on the same page.

“It’s a lot of responsibility being a captain,” adds David sagely.

Nick laughs, “I’m sure it is.”

“Either that or just an excuse to have a gavel!” Jon jokes.

“Where is the gavel, David?” asks Nick.

“Wes took it to Stanford.”

“He’s probably using it to boss around his dormmates,” Aiden laughs. “Gentlemen,” he mimics, “I hereby declare we shall all eat fruit loops for breakfast.”

“There is no way,” David looks at them all, reprimanding, “that Wes would eat fruit loops. He’s definitely more of an all-bran kinda guy.”

The rest of the practice passes much more productively; they decide on a Disney medley instead of one single song, even though no-one is under the illusion it will be used for Sectionals, so they choose three more ‘appropriate’ songs and end the meeting eating cookies lovingly sent from someone’s mother.

**************************

Kurt wakes up, does his customary glance over to the other bed where Blaine is still snoozing, then grabs his caddy from beside his roommates’ on the shelf, and heads to the showers. With dawning dread, he realizes he’s twenty minutes later than usual, and that his shower (it HAS to be the one on the end) has already been taken. He stares at the twelve occupied shower cubicles in panic as he attempts to mentally condense his morning routine so that he can get to French on time. A shower curtain is pulled back and the shower’s occupant steps out. Kurt doesn’t even look, just rushes past, murmuring a ‘thanks’ to whoever it is before rushing to deposit his bag in the nook and get under the spray.

“Whoa there gorgeous,” says a voice Kurt only half recognizes in his rush. He swivels round to locate the voice’s owner, only to see Sebastian. A half-naked Sebastian. Kurt is still in his pajamas and a Dior grey towelette robe, but Sebastian is even less dressed with just a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, showing an athlete’s legs, but surprisingly (or not) that’s not what makes Kurt’s heart stop in his chest.

If Kurt’s being honest, Sebastian is effortlessly gorgeous. It’s all too obvious that Sebastian plays sport now, seeing him like this, and he’s stunning, in a completely different way to Blaine….thinking about Blaine stops that train of thought dead in the tracks, and he rushes the rest of the way past Sebastian so fast he nearly slips on the tiles. Any thought of getting to class on time has been erased from Kurt’s mind, leaving him utterly bemused. On one hand, Kurt is able to pass this off as nothing but teenage hormones; Sebastian isn’t repulsive looking, Finn looks at girls all the time, but then on the other hand…..that little voice, the one he mostly ignores, is telling him that what he’s feeling is want. He pushes it down; he wants Blaine, goddamit.

Fate has it in for him today. He walks into his French class, nervous as to how he will find it there now he has been moved class. Finding a seat beside someone he vaguely recognizes from his English class, he fishes out his notebook and pen, completely unaware of Sebastian settling into the seat on the other side of Kurt.

Professor De Lille nods first at Kurt, then at the boy beside him, and that’s when Kurt notices Sebastian.

“Where did you go after Warblers on Monday?”

Sebastian looks across at Kurt disinterestedly. “Nowhere. It’s none of your business.”

“Oh, sorry for asking. You can save your own uninspiring ass next time,” Kurt snaps as Mr. De Lille calls the class to attention.

“Books to Chapter 11, please. Mr Smythe, share with Mr Hummel until we can get him a book of his own.”

Great. Sebastian slides his textbook over. It has been covered with red plaid paper with a perfectly centered sticker on the front reading:

S.E Smythe,

Professor De Lille,

Room 60,

Whitman building.

The fact that Sebastian has a room in the Whitman building just confirms everything David and Blaine have told him about Sebastian; it’s the most expensive accommodation Dalton offers, but it also tells him that Sebastian is a floor monitor for the new Freshmen, who always have rooms from 40-80 with each multiple of 10 being for the floor monitor. Kurt wonders whether Sebastian is the type to let his freshman get away with everything or if he likes bossing them about. Probably the latter. It wouldn’t surprise Kurt to find out that Sebastian likes the sound of his own voice a little too much.

They start with an exercise on indirect pronouns, which doesn’t prove too challenging, and the low buzz of chatter amongst the boys steadily creeps up, causing Mr De Lille to snap at them from his desk.

“Sans blague, il deviant plus grincheux chaque semestre” jokes Sebastian twiddling his pen in his hand, worksheet already filled out. His perfect accent is a surprise to Kurt, until he remembers what Blaine had told him about Sebastian transferring from a school in Paris. Kurt isn’t used to not getting full marks, but is proud of his 8/10; no-one gets full marks all the time.

“Bet you’re not used to getting less than full marks Hummel,” snarks Sebastian, moving his arm to show the 10/10 written beneath his immaculate work. It would figure that Sebastian is a neat freak.

“Certains d’entre nous n’avons pas eu l’occasion à aller à l’ école a paris,” says Kurt, with a flourish, enjoying being able to speak to someone who can understand him.

“I see you’ve been listening to the rumor mill,” counters Sebastian.

“Is it not true then? You didn’t go to a school in Paris? Blaine said…”

“It is true, yes, but you shouldn’t believe everything your little boyfriend says. The Warblers and your cutesy cheerleading squad aren’t really a reliable source of news.” At this the boy next to Kurt looks up, fixing Sebastian with a curious stare.

Kurt lowers his voice, giving up any pretense of speaking French. “Blaine isn’t my boyfriend.”

“But you want him to be.” It is a statement not a question. It annoys Kurt to think Sebastian has him worked out.

“It’s none of your business,” says Kurt, almost sullenly.

Sebastian leans closer to Kurt, and Kurt becomes aware of the lack of space between them, the other boy’s breath nearly tangible. “Just a bit of advice sweet cheeks,” Sebastian murmurs in that awful cliché way, “Blaine is as oblivious as fuck, and even if he does notice you mooning over him like a lovesick girl he wouldn’t go for it.”

“And why is that?” Kurt hisses.

“You’ll figure it out soon enough.”

“Mr Hummel, Mr Symthe, kindly tell us what has got you both so distracted from your work,” interrupts Mr De Lille and everyone turns round to stare at them.

“Nothing,” both boys manage to say at once.

‘Good going, Hummel’ mouths Sebastian when they settle back into their normal positions in their seats and Kurt swallows a retort about Sebastian being a sore loser when it comes to Blaine, unsure of the other boy’s reaction.

“Our project for this semester,” Mr De Lille starts, after they’re completed the pronoun exercises in the book, “is on French literature. Working in pairs, you will each be given a book on which you will be expected to present an oral report on in front of the class.”

Of course Kurt gets paired with Sebastian.

They have to read four extracts from their book, which is held in the library, which means he’ll have to meet with Sebastian at least once a week. Great.

“David says they’re been doing this project since his father was here. I hope we don’t get the Voltaire, it was boring enough the first time,” Sebastian mutters. Kurt doesn’t really have anything to say to that; he doesn’t think Sebastian will welcome more questions about his former life and to be honest Kurt is just confused by the way Sebastian is now acting as if Kurt is the thorn in his side.

Much to his relief, Sebastian maintains this chilly indifference for the rest of the lesson, because he’s finding it all too easy to picture Sebastian as he was this morning, with little droplets of water…No, get yourself under control Hummel, think about something else….Kurt thinks about his founders’ day outfit and how the girls had bought him two tickets to celebrate the first and only founders’ day he’d attend.

Mr De Lille calls the class to order just as the bell rings. “Mr Symthe, can you take Mr Hummel to the French office to get a textbook?”

“I’m sure Davidson can take him?” says Sebastian cooly and quietly, fixing the boy on the other side of Kurt with a stern stare.

“Sure,” replies Davidson, “the French office is on my way to Latin anyway.”

“I am still here you know,” protests Kurt. At least Davidson has the manners to look sheepish.

“How could I ever forget? God, your whining is worse than white noise.”

Unwilling to stay and have Sebastian insult him again, Kurt breezes out of the room trailing a confused Eric Davidson, the expression on his face forcedly collected.

**************************

After grousing about Mr De Lille’s project all evening to Blaine, Kurt has managed to convince himself that spending one of his only free evenings with Sebastian would be worse than death. At least they’d be in the library, Blaine had tried to reassure Kurt; even Sebastian wouldn’t try anything under the watch of the eagle faced librarian Mrs Brice, who was so formidable students would make bird noises to alert others when she was near.

The two boys had been given ‘Les Petits Enfants Du Siecle’ to study, despite Kurt’s wish to get Victor Hugo so he could go down the halls singing ‘One Day More’ and have plausible deniability, any excuse for showtunes. Kurt selects a table near the World Literature section to wait for Sebastian. After ten minutes of waiting he goes to photocopy the text extracts they need for their project, facing the door to look out for his French partner. Kurt gives up when Sebastian is forty minutes late.

The first thing Kurt feels is anger. What can Sebastian be doing that is more important than turning up to their study session? Probably putting another notch in his bedpost. Kurt is intrigued as well. Aiden said Sebastian had been acting weirdly, and even though it pains Kurt to admit it, Sebastian is actually a good Warbler, his sense of loyalty one of the few traits he shares with Blaine. When he’d left practice he’d been swearing under his breath, maybe he was in some sort of trouble?

It’s probably nothing, he thinks. He’s worrying over something and somebody not worth his concern. Who does concern themselves over Sebastian? Although Sebastian is on good terms with most of the Warblers apart from Nick, he doesn’t think any of them are particularly friendly with him. Even Blaine had stayed away lately, although that was a bed of Sebastian’s own making, Kurt reasons. David is probably the closest to the other boy, although his influence seems to be more fatherly than anything, despite the fact all three boys are the same age.

To: Blaine A

Sebastian was a no-show; wanna go to the lima bean?

He debates adding kisses, but decides against it, adding a smiley face instead. No harm was ever done by the addition of a smiley face. When he gets there, Blaine is already in their favorite seats with Kurt’s coffee order on the table beside Blaine’s complete with Kurt’s name in sharpie on the side.

It’s easy to forget about Sebastian during the time he spends with Blaine; for one, Blaine refuses to let Kurt pay him back for the two coffees, even when Kurt tries to insist. It’s nice to be reminded that normal conversation don’t revolve around trading insults. Their conversation is always surprisingly easy, even though they share a room they never run out of topics and Kurt always feels listened to, even when he’s halfway through a rant about Sebastian.

“I’m glad you’re here Blaine,” Kurt says when he’s finished his tirade.

Blaine smiles back, splitting his giant cookie and offering the bigger half to Kurt. “Me too.”

Kurt’s heart swells, especially when their hands brush as Kurt takes the proffered food, his mind going back to that day in his room all those months ago.

They get back to school five minutes before the curfew, having missed dinner entirely, but neither boy seems to care all that much, food isn’t even on the agenda, they’re too busy arguing over what film they’re going to watch tonight when they get back to their room. Kurt wants ‘The Devil Wears Prada’, Blaine wants ‘Top Hat’.

Kurt is still humming ‘cheek to cheek’ in a happy daze as he goes to collect the Chanel jacket he’d left in David’s room yesterday. Unfortunately, his distraction means that he isn’t looking where he’s going, and turning a corner, he knocks Sebastian flat.

“Do you like walking into people or is it just me?”

Kurt narrows his eyes, he’s not going to apologize after Sebastian stood him up.

“I only knock people over who deserve it,” he says icily.

“Look, Kurt, I’m sorry about earlier.”

Kurt immediately deflates; Sebastian’s expression is so…earnest and sincere that Kurt’s pre-rehearsed rant dies in his throat. “Where were you?” he says after a moment, making his tone soft rather than confrontational.

Sebastian ducks his head and puts a hand through his hair, avoiding Kurt’s eyes. “I was…I had other stuff to do.”

“What stuff?”

“Nothing, just stuff….with people…”

Kurt raises his eyebrows. “Stuff with people” he repeats dumbly. “Well I’m sorry that this project detracts from your glittering social life!” So much for calm, Kurt thinks.

“It’s only a stupid French project Kurt, get over it!”

“If it’s just a stupid project then you can do it on your own, you’ve made it quite clear you don’t require my help!”

“I missed one study date and you’re acting like I killed your kitten!”

The word date hangs in the air for a moment; did Sebastian mean to call it a date? A date with him? He….and Sebastian on a date?

An image of a softly lit French restaurant flickers in his mind; someone is playing jazz on a grand piano in the background and Sebastian is leaning over the immaculate table, laughing at something Kurt is saying whilst he pours Kurt wine.

The image is ridiculous. Or is it…?

“I’m sorry I let you down.”

“Okay,” Kurt grumbles, “don’t do it again.”

“Yes sir.”

Sebastian holds out his hand for Kurt to shake, which he accepts. Sebastian’s palm is really warm.

“You have really green eyes.”

The aforementioned eyes crinkle. Sebastian laughs under his breath, “So do you.”

“Sometimes mine look blue.”

“I’ve noticed,” Sebastian almost whispers. They are still shaking hands.

“Kurt!” David is coming down the corridor holding his jacket. “I thought you must have got lost on the way here you were taking so long!”

Kurt drags his eyes away from Sebastian’s face, “No, we were just talking about Sebastian’s work ethic.”

David looks between them. “Oh? You better watch out Sebastian, Kurt got 96% in the Campbell-Bennett scholarship test.”

“Which I couldn’t have done if I hadn’t turned up to the information sessions.”

“Okay Einstein, you’ve made your point, jeez!” Sebastian throws his hands up and walks away muttering under his breath. Kurt swears he hears the words eyes and stupid.

“What’s up with him?” David asks.

“Nothing, he’s just being Sebastian, thanks for my jacket!” Kurt hurries off leaving David confused in the middle of the corridor .

**********************************************

Kurt hides his face in his book when he sees Sebastian enter the library for their rescheduled ‘study date’, trying his best to ignore the way his stomach lurches as he thinks back to yesterday in the corridor.

“What are you reading?” asks Sebastian, obviously trying to elicit a reaction from Kurt.

Kurt looks at Sebastian as if he has the IQ of a very small child. “‘Les Petits Enfants Du Siecle’. It’s the book we got assigned, remember?”

“Upside down?”

Kurt looks down at the book and sees that the book is indeed upside down. ‘Smirk-y meerkat imbecile’ he thinks sullenly. Kurt slams the book on top of the extracts unintentionally, and he’s sure he’s glaring.

“No need to get your pom-poms in a knot, Hummel. I’m surprised you cheerleaders even try to pick up books, next time you might even be able to hold it the right way up!”

Kurt felt his face heat up. Well, he thinks, two can play at that game , there aren’t many people who can out- quip Kurt Hummel.

“Well, if I’m too stupid to read the book then perhaps you can do the project on your own,” says Kurt sweetly, reaching for his satchel.

Sebastian looks nonplussed, “You’ve used that threat already.”

Kurt almost gets away from the table before Sebastian stops him.

“Wait, Kurt.” Sebastian is looking beseechingly at him, with a expression Kurt is sure works on most of the people it’s used on.

Kurt does his best to look authoritative as he settles back down to work. “So, we’ll both read these extracts,” he holds up the photocopies he made yesterday “and next time we’ll compare notes, d’accord?”

Kurt decides bewilderment looks cute on Sebastian. “In the meantime, we’ll research the author and the context of the book, and divide up who will says what in the oral report.”

“Yes sir,” replies Sebastian mockingly, even though he’s actually suitably impressed.

Kurt is waiting for Sebastian to argue, or make a crass comment about Kurt’s usage of the word oral, but instead he pulls out an expensive looking laptop and surprisingly starts taking notes in a red notebook. Ten minutes later sees Kurt running out of things to search, and he has to admit he’s feeling listless. Sebastian, however, is still going strong, prompting Kurt to look at his screen, expecting to see him on internet Tetris or some such diversion from their schoolwork. Instead he only sees the browser open to the website of what seems to be a literary journal, written in a type of sophisticated French Kurt can only grasp short phrases of. Feeling slightly foolish, Kurt thinks he may actually have to use the ginormous French dictionary Carole had given him for Christmas, in order not to give Sebastian the power to gloat when Kurt can’t keep up.

Sebastian’s phone vibrates in his bag, and then again, not a minute later. Kurt can’t see the screen but it must be important because the other boy’s face falls and he closes his laptop with an audible bang. The phone vibrates again.

“No phones in the library, Mr Symthe.”

“Sorry Mrs Brice,” Sebastian turns to Kurt “Something’s come up, I’ll make those notes and email them to you, okay?”

“Sebastian, where are you going?”

“I’ll explain later.” And with that, Sebastian is already out the door, moving at a half run, half walk.

It’s ten seconds before Kurt decides to follow him.

The Whitman building houses all the Dalton staff, visitors, freshman and a few select seniors who occupy the top floor, meaning the freshman can’t cause trouble sandwiched as they are between faculty and prefects/monitors. He sees Sebastian cross the lobby and dive through a door to the right of the main stairwell labeled ‘for student use’, and after half a minute Kurt follows, despite knowing that Sebastian has probably seen him already. The stairs on the other side of the door creak ominously underfoot, probably from the constant use of stampeding boys every day, which isn’t helping him avoid discovery.

Kurt stops when he gets to the second floor. He can hear Sebastian shouting for someone to come back through the open door leading to the dorm corridor, so he stays in the stairwell and hopes to hell no-one decides to use the stairs.

“No, I hate it, I hate them, I don’t want to be here anymore!”

“Sam, you can’t start an argument and then run away when it doesn’t turn out the way you wanted.” Sebastian’s voice is very calm coming after the bellow of what is presumably a freshman.

“I want to go home,” the small voice sulks, sounding suddenly very vulnerable.

“Look, Sam,” says Sebastian very quietly, so Kurt has to strain his ears to hear. “Everyone gets homesick at boarding school; some people take longer than others to settle.”

“I’m not homesick.”

“Are you sure, dude?”

“Okay, maybe just a little bit.” Sebastian laughs at Sam’s response.

“Are you going to apologize to Elijah and Logan?”

“If I have to…thanks Sebastian,” says Sam begrudgingly. Kurt hears a door close and some shuffling of feet, but no more talking.

“You can come out now Kurt!”

Kurt flinches, rooted to the spot. He knew he’d be caught (he’s tried spying at Dalton before. of course. and it failed miserably then) but he hadn’t planned what he would do when he got caught.

“Come on Kurt, I know it’s you,” Sebastian calls, the humor he’d had in his voice before gone, replaced with irritation.

Kurt peeks round the corner, “How did you know it was me?”

“Like anyone else would wear Dolce and Gabanna dress shoes?”

Kurt looks down at the shoes he’d bought in last year’s holiday sales. “So, this is where you’ve been running off to.”

Sebastian looks down at his feet, scuffing one of his own dress shoes against the floor, not meeting Kurt’s eye.

“You could have just told me, I wouldn’t have minded.”

Sebastian still doesn’t answer.

“It’s sort of a stupid thing to be so secretive about, people aren’t going to care that you’re a senior mentor, in fact….that’s what you’re worried about, isn’t it?” Kurt realizes with a jolt.

“What?No!”

“You’re scared that the bad boy image you’ve cultivated will disappear when people find out you’re helping the freshmen!”

“It’s not that, it isn’t even anyone else’s business, just me and Sam’s,” says Sebastian grudgingly.

“Why do you care so much what other people think of you? Is it really better that people think you’re off doing god knows what with god knows who, than telling them the truth?” argues Kurt. Jeez, he sounds like his dad.

“You thought I didn’t turn up because I was sleeping with someone?”

Kurt barrels on, “Isn’t that what you meant by ‘doing stuff with people’?”

“No! It’s nice to know you think so highly of me!” Sebastian spits; he is not going to get upset in front of Kurt. (Point of view shift!)

“Oh, come on! You play up to it all the time! It’s what you want people to think!”

“Have you finished being judgmental yet?”

Kurt stops, replaying back what he has just said, and feels suddenly like a huge hypocrite.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt says, “I shouldn’t have just assumed…”

Sebastian interrupts him, holding up a hand to stop Kurt talking. “It’s alright, I should have told you where I was going instead of sneaking around. Sam is still a little hesitant to let me help him, hence the erratic summons.”

“Is Sam the only freshman you’re mentoring?” asks Kurt, grateful for the change of topic.

“Just Sam, he’s had trouble settling in, so I can relate.”

Kurt thinks this is perhaps the most honest thing Sebastian has ever said to him, he thinks he is probably one of the only people who has seen this side of Sebastian and if it makes him feel vulnerable he can’t imagine how Sebastian feels right now.

Kurt doesn’t know how to reply.

“Do you want to head down to dinner?” Sebastian says, after a few moments of awkward silence.

Kurt agrees and the boys head down to the refectory, Sebastian slipping Kurt a secret smile when his phone rings through dessert, before sneaking off before the boys on their table start asking too many questions.   
**********************************

According to Dalton/Crawford tradition, the first day that students can ask dates to the founder’s day ball is the Monday before the event itself, so naturally Kurt’s been planning how he’s going ask Blaine all week. It doesn’t stop Kurt getting distracted just thinking about it all through home-ec, when he’s supposed to be helping David with their roulade.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” replies Kurt, a little too quickly to be believable. It’s not like he’s written ‘I’m thinking about Blaine’ in sharpie on his forehead.

“So, you were so busy thinking about nothing that you haven’t noticed the oven timer has been going off for at least two minutes?” Kurt thinks David looks too amused for his own good.

“Why didn’t you come and take it out then?”

David’s chuckling gets louder, “You’re standing in front of the oven.”

Fortunately, the roulade has escaped unburned, which saves the two boys a lot of embarrassment, even if they have the long holiday to blame on their lack of baking skills if it does go wrong.

“Are you going to tell me what you really were thinking about?” inquires David, in the lull between baking and cleaning up.

“The senior ball.”

“Are you going to ask someone? Blaine perhaps?”

Kurt pauses, he knows David a lot better than most of the Warblers and he knows David accepts him fully, but he still doesn’t know if this topic of conversation is one David is enquiring about just to be polite.

“Wait, how did you know I like Blaine?”

David raises an eyebrow as if to ask whether Kurt really needs an answer.

“Okay, okay,” Kurt laughs, halfway between annoyance and amusement.

“Oh, umm that’s cool though… Good luck with that,” says the other boy and Kurt is glad he’s not in the drama society, because the fake smile he gives Kurt is awful.

David must know that Kurt has picked up on the awkward turn the conversation has taken, because he puts the spatula he was cleaning down and turns to face Kurt. “There’s nothing wrong with Blaine, Kurt, if you want to ask him you go ahead. Just…” He pauses. “If it doesn’t go the way you planned don’t beat yourself up about it? All of the Warblers tend to stay together so you wouldn’t be lacking in company.”

“Have you been talking to Sebastian by any chance?”

David just looks confused.

“He just said something similar in French last Tuesday.”

“Hmm,” says David noncommittally.

Kurt doesn’t press David for any more information; he just knows Blaine likes him.

Even though it’s obvious David knows something Kurt doesn’t, Kurt doesn’t want to trust what the other boy has said. He has to at least try to ask Blaine, surely no-one flirts that much and means nothing by it? Well, apart from Santana…and maybe Puck…

At that moment David sidles close to Kurt under the pretence of wiping down the oven top. “By the way, we’re having a Founders Week Warbler party at 7:30 in the senior commons tomorrow night, someone’s brother got us alcohol,” he says in a voice a little too loud to be a whisper, even though Kurt is sure it was intended to be one.

“Won’t we get caught?” Kurt whispers back.

“No, those doors are so thick they muffle most sound, and the teacher who usually does the patrols in that area at night is off sick, no-one will remember that though, the teachers don’t really talk to each other if they can help it.”

Kurt promises to put in a small appearance but doesn’t promise to stay for long, despite that Blaine always went home on Tuesday evenings to spend time with his mother, as she always worked erratic hours abroad.

********

That evening Kurt dresses carefully after dinner (they can wear own clothes until bedtime) and styles his hair down to the last strand (in a elaborate style he certainly did not pick up from Jesse St James). He waits nervously until Blaine gets back from Swim training, trying to summon up some courage, but failing. He will ask Blaine to the dance. He will.

He’s sitting on his bed when Blaine comes in, his hair still wet from swimming. He looks amazing.

“Hi Kurt,” greets Blaine, not noticing the fact Kurt has tidied their room and dimmed the room’s lighting to just the two lamps.

“Blaine…” starts Kurt, “I was… wondering…I was wondering whether you had a date to the Founders Day Ball? It’s just that I’ve got two tickets….” He trails off.

Blaine doesn’t respond, he just kind of…stands there, his mouth slightly open in an expression of adorable confusion.

“I’m asking if you want to go to the founder’s day ball, with me? It’s okay if you don’t want to go, especially after what happened at your last school…we could stay in the room? Watch a movie?” Kurt babbles.

Blaine looks at Kurt, as if processing the conversation. “You’re asking if I want to go to founder’s day with you?”

“Uh-huh,” says Kurt, voice quiet.

“Kurt, I’m so sorry, I already told Jacob Ritzman I’d go with him”

Kurt feels disappointment deep in his stomach. Jacob was in the swim team with Blaine, and to be honest Blaine had once said Jacob was cute, but he’d brushed it off as just a passing comment. I’ve been a total idiot, he thinks to himself.

“Why…” Blaine pauses awkwardly. “Why did you want to go with me?”

“Because I thought you liked me?”

Blaine looks completely dumbstruck “I do like you!”

“I meant, in a more than friends sort of way”

Blaine’s mouth makes an ‘o’ shape of surprise. “Kurt I had no idea, you should have said something sooner.”

“We’re roommates, I was afraid it would be weird…and I thought..” Kurt thinks hard about what he’s going to say, the words in his head sound raw and the last thing he wants to do is to hurt Blaine. “I thought you already knew, I mean what was I supposed to think? The duets in Warblers; you always getting me those biscotti’s even though you don’t like them; all the time we spent together over the summer? We’ve been dancing around this for months!”

“I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to give you that impression, I wasn’t even aware…”

“You said that already,” says Kurt bitterly, caring significantly less about Blaine’s feelings than he had a minute ago. He suddenly really, really, wants to get out of the room and spare himself any further mortification, “I should go finish my homework, I won’t have time later on in the week with all the Founder’s events going on.”

“Okay,” Blaine agrees, very obviously confused about what he should say next. “Are we alright, though?”

Kurt stops and turns back, one hand on the door. “Yeah Blaine, we’re alright.”

It’s not until he gets to the computer room and Mercedes is flickering on a screen that he feels the moisture gather in his eyes, luckily there is no-one else in the room to see him but he still feels stupid and hopelessly lost.

“It’s okay,” Mercedes coos over Skype, giving him a very sympathetic look.

“It was all in my head!” Kurt sniffs, “I made such a fool of myself, what am I going to do now?”

Mercedes looks at him as if the answer is painfully obvious. “You pick yourself up and go ask another handsome guy to the dance, you said just last week that Dalton wasn’t short on choice.”

“I was exaggerating,” says Kurt sullenly.

“I know this sucks, but you gotta stop feeling so sorry for yourself, I bet there’s loads of other guys wanting to ask a hot guy to this starter’s day ball!”

Kurt chuckles, “It’s founder’s day.”

“Whatever, I have to go eat dinner but I hope you feel better, Kurt.”

“Thanks, Mercedes,” Kurt says earnestly, wishing he could go home now and see everyone.

“You coming home this weekend? My mom’s making apple pie again,” asks Mercedes.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Kurt certainly does not allow himself to mope through Tuesday. The fact that Anna the cafeteria lady had seen the look on Kurt’s face and made the slice of coffee and walnut cake slightly bigger was a complete coincidence. Really. He managed to get through most lessons on autopilot, stumbling magnificently through their first lesson on the past historic in French, not contributing at all to the group discussion.

Kurt is suddenly very glad he can go back to his empty dorm room, put his pyjamas on and watch the Spice Girls Movie without being hassled.

“Oh dear, Kurt Hummel,” he says to himself at 8:30pm, after he has watched both the Spice Girls Movie and Fame, and munched most of his way through that week’s care package from Carole. He exchanges his pyjamas for jeans and a short sleeved blue shirt and grabs a burgundy cardigan on his way out, not as a fashion statement, but because it was the first one he could grab from the back of his desk chair. “How unlike me,” Kurt says to himself sarcastically, as if sassing himself will make him feel better.

Kurt enters the senior commons to a party in full swing, slightly nervous about drinking in front of people he doesn’t really know all too well. He tells himself this is exactly the opportunity to get to know some of the Warblers better and steps fully into the room.

“Hey Kurt, you made it!” calls Joe loudly, causing the senior Warblers around him to shush loudly.

David stands up. “Shuffle round people!”

Kurt takes the proffered patch of carpet between David and Dean in front of a coffee table on which some sort of card game is being played. Dean places a shot glass in front of Kurt’s place (“You don’t have to drink if you don’t want to, Kurt, we have lemonade as well,”) with a picture of Tweety Bird on the front.

“The Loony Tunes shot glasses are mine,” says Jim proudly and Kurt can’t tell if he’s drunk because Jim acts like he’s had one too many red bulls on a normal day.

Surveying the game from a chaise longs, as if from on high, is Sebastian. Kurt’s inner monologue supplies a dig about Sebastian wanting to be painted like a French girl, but he doesn’t get round to voicing this thought out loud, because he gets distracted at how…good…Sebastian looks stretched out like that, his checks pink from what Kurt assumes is alcohol and his gaze is lazy. Sebastian looks debauched. Oh god.

Kurt’s mind must be working overtime tonight, because before he can stop himself he is imagining Sebastian laid out against Red Dalton sheets, his tan skin endless, the same far off look in his yes, but in Kurt’s imagination it is not alcohol that has put it there.

However, this slightly disturbing train of thought is cut off by Sebastian himself, “I didn’t think perfect Kurt Hummel would stoop to such a rebellious thing as underage drinking.” Kurt doesn’t know what’s worse, the jibe or the fact that the Sebastian he saw during the ‘fighting freshman incident’ seems to have gone into hiding, leaving Kurt wondering whether he really existed at all.

“Shut up Sebastian, just because Tweety pie hasn’t downed a bottle of rum and then thrown up in a giant, hollow, plastic Panda!” The whole room erupts in laughter.

“When was this?” inquires David, with what can only be called an evil smirk.

“Last year, in the park. I wish I’d filmed it now,” says Nathan nostalgically and he winks at Kurt, offering the open lemonade bottle which Kurt refuses, instead accepting a shot of Apple Vodka off one of their freshman members. Kurt raises an eyebrow, and the freshman puts down his own shot glass and takes the lemonade, as the others look on and laugh.

Kurt thinks about how relaxed everyone seems, the party definitely lacks the impetus to drink that Kurt found frustrating at Puck’s basement get-togethers, however, Kurt still feels the dangerous urge to prove Sebastian wrong. ‘You can take the kid out of public school…’ he thinks wryly, because it’s easier to blame his need to prove he can handle his drink on his public school mind-set than on Sebastian.

The next hour goes on much the same, Kurt keeps losing ‘Fuzzy Duck’ and ends up feeling pleasantly buzzed as they change drinking games.

“I wonder what Wes would say if he was here,” wonders a definitely tipsy Nick.

David chuckles. “He’d probably be very happy that the freshmen have actually just gone to bed without arguing!”

“I’m just so proud,” imitates Aiden, “that our young freshmen have such self-control, it’s so important to be…”

Nathan takes a pillow from the chaise Sebastian is on and beats Aiden around the head with it, while they all laugh around them. It’s nice Kurt thinks, the Warblers all gathered on the floor with he and Sebastian on the chaise longs. They all play a very confusing game of 21’s, in which the number 19 has just been replaced by a compulsory impression of a T-Rex.

“Ok, my turn to make a rule!” In his excitement to add a rule Aiden manages to slop some of his ‘Dean’s own death punch’ down the front of his sweater and shirt.

“Well at least it’s not on the carpet, that would have been hard to explain” says David somewhat sarcastically.

“Okay, okay, my rule is…on the number… eleven, everyone has to bray.”

“What is it with you guys and animal impressions?” wonders Trent, to no-one in particular.

During the ensuing argument, Kurt ends up slumping sideways, he and Sebastian’s shoulders brushing lightly, but Kurt is too content to care. He’s completely forgotten about the Blaine debacle, well he had until that thought, being very happy to float in a happy daze, not caring about his state of inebriation, knowing he is safe.

The game of 21’s gets too silly to follow, and the boys slump back against the carpet, staring at the ceiling and talking about girls and pretending to watch the DVD Joe put in the player. Well, Kurt isn’t talking about girls, instead he’s been reveling in how warm Sebastian is against his side, and how when he laughs, Kurt can feel warm breath, drawing his gaze down to Sebastian’s mouth. Their eyes meet for a few short seconds, Sebastian smirk-smiles, and Kurt looks away, as quickly as is as physically possible, to where Nathan is telling a story on the carpet.

“And that’s when her sister shows up,” winces Nathan causing quite a few of the others to get the giggles.

Nick stands up. “On that note of Nathan’s dating faux pas, I’m going to go to bed”

“Me too, I’ve got biology with Wiseman in the morning.”

“Night guys!”

With that Nick, Aiden, Jim, Trent and Dean slope out of the room towards their beds, leaving David, Kurt and Sebastian with one bottle of pre-mixed cocktail between them.

“I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one night, g’night!” A moment after Nathan heads to bed, his head reappears round the doorframe, “you can keep that Margarita. It’s god-awful anyway, and tastes like bathroom cleaner.”

“Why can I actually imagine him drinking detergent?” laughs David.

It takes a quarter of an hour for David to start looking from the screen to the boys on the chaise, and he rapidly realizes he’s the only one actually paying attention to Alien Abduction 2. There’s no space between the two boys on the couch, which would normally merit at least a warning, but this time David’s all too happy to throw the rules out the window. In fact, he’s secretly glad Blaine’s as oblivious to Kurt’s feelings as a plank of wood (some things never change) because Sebastian seems less abrasive lately, edges worn down as if by sandpaper.

David excuses himself, telling the others he’s already seen this part of the movie before, and leaves, trying not to give a Sebastian-like smirk on the way out.

Hardly even noticing they are finally alone, Sebastian offers the bottle of margarita to Kurt, who takes it happily, drinking from the bottle in large gulps, before wiping the top absentmindedly with a sleeve, despite the cost of the cardigan. In an echo of earlier, Sebastian watches as Kurt swallows the drink, not even laughing when he winces at the taste.

Kurt goes to hand it back just as Sebastian leans in to take it, palm closing around the neck of the bottle, fists touching. Sebastian is so close he could count Kurt’s eyelashes, but he won’t, because not only would that be stupid, but he’d probably lose count. Later that evening (or morning to be accurate) Sebastian will wonder who leaned in first, but he won’t remember because he’s so unexpectedly overwhelmed by everything his brain seems to momentarily stop. He knows how Kurt smells of course; his scent of Christian Dior had been easy to pick out amongst the general scent of Axe that tended to linger in the locker room after practice, but here, here it is almost heady.

Kurt, for his part, is letting himself be pressed back into the chaise, completely carefree, giving himself up to the feeling of Sebastian’s lips on his own, more gentle than he’d ever imagined. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he is denying that he’s ever imagined being kissed by Sebastian, and also firmly telling himself that actually doing it is a Very Bad Idea, in a subconscious voice which sounds a lot like Rachel Berry which is supremely ironic.

“Kurt, are you sure?”

“Sebastian, shut up,” breathes Kurt in response, moving one of Sebastian’s hands to his waist, feeling even more surrounded by the other boy. He doesn’t know whether it’s the alcohol causing this surge in confidence or the fact that Sebastian has been driving him mad, but right now it doesn’t matter, he can’t remember the last time he was this content.

Sebastian is the first to pull away, that he will remember, and his left hand stops stroking Kurt’s hipbone but he makes no attempt to put more space between them.

“Kurt, its nearly two in the morning, we should go before someone finds us.”

“I thought I was supposed to be the rule-abiding one,” laughs Kurt, realizing he can’t get up, effectively trapped as he is by the other boy’s body.

Sebastian laughs, “Oops, sorry!”

Kurt decides he likes bashful Sebastian.

Down the spiral staircase, in the left of the corridor, is the somewhat eccentric janitor, fixing the antique grandfather clock while he won’t be disturbed by the hundreds of boys who use the walkway in the daytime. Unfortunately, to Kurt’s horror, this cuts off any route back to his dorm, effectively rendering him stuck. He wonders if they will expel him for staying in the senior commons all night, and too late realizes he’s said it out loud, and that he is being silently laughed at.

“I doubt they’d expel you, but you could tell them you sleepwalk?”

“In my uniform?” whispers Kurt snippily. “Can’t I sleep on your floor? We can still get to the Whitman building…”

“Without being killed or worse expelled? I didn’t think you’d be so eager to get into my bedroom, babe.” Kurt rolls his eyes at the cheesy line, automatically leaning up to reconnect their mouths. They lose a few minute in an alcove around the corner from the staircase, trading kisses, buoyed up by the feeling they could be caught at any moment.

With Kurt’s left hand in Sebastian’s right, Sebastian leads Kurt down the stairs as they stay to the shadows. Kurt rests and puts his hands on his knees, trying to suppress giggles at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation.

“I feel like I’m in a bad spy movie!”

Sebastian makes a gun shape with his hands, “The name’s Bond, James Bond.”

Sebastian loves the way Kurt’s laugh sounds so carefree when usually it’s so guarded. They both put up fronts, but Sebastian’s have been cracking more every time he and Kurt speak. He can’t stop himself from holding Kurt’s hand all the way to the Whitman building.

Sebastian’s room is much larger than Kurt’s, a perk of being a floor monitor, but apart from that it is pretty unremarkable: a set of Dalton pennants on the wall, the same bed and dresser and the same regulation red bed sheets and curtains. The only clue that a teenage boy inhabits the room is the collage of photos on the wall nearest the bed, which all seem to feature people sticking their tongues out and laughing, much the same as Kurt’s pictures of New Directions back in his own dorm. Of all the pictures near the bed it is the one of Sebastian sandwiched in between lots of boys with Sebastian’s hair and a little girl in dungarees that Kurt is most curious about.

Kurt doesn’t notice Sebastian standing behind him because he jumps forty foot in the air when Sebastian starts talking.

“Those are my brothers and my sister.”

Kurt slowly counts the children in the photograph, having to do two headcounts before he can be convinced he’s right. That’s a lot of siblings. It’s all feeling very….cosy, eerily so, considering how they’ve gone from making out on a couch to looking at pictures of Sebastian’s family, as they sit on his bed. This feeling only intensifies when Sebastian leans in to kiss him, soft and slow, adjectives he’s only just come to associate with Sebastian, but he’s in no rush to stop, the alcohol making him feel warm and lazy. They keep kissing until both boys are horizontal on the bed, Kurt very much the one in control of the kiss, pressing Sebastian down into the mattress, and Kurt was right, Sebastian looks amazing against the red sheets, better than Kurt would ever admit.

Kurt’s stomach swoops when Sebastian flips them over, he’s never felt so happily powerless. He’s always felt the need to be the one in control, mostly out of necessity, like a tool for survival, giving himself confidence to get through days where almost anything could be lurking round a corridor. Their kisses are still soft and open mouthed, everything Kurt thought his first kisses would be, there’s no pressure to do more, even though he’d always imagined it would be with his first boyfriend, he’d never imagined he’d be slightly drunk either.

“D’you want anything to sleep in?”

Kurt is bewildered “What? Why?”

“…Because we’re going to sleep?”

“Am I that bad of a kisser?” mumbles Kurt, somewhat dejectedly.

“God, Kurt, no!” Sebastian says, but pauses, as if he’s trying to say something but has momentarily lost the power of speech. “Kurt, you’re drunk and I don’t want to do anything you’ll regret, I don’t wanna be the bad guy here.” I don’t want to be the bad guy again.

Kurt is completely oblivious to the undertones to Sebastian’s words in his stupor, letting his mouth move without the jurisdiction of his brain, “I thought you were the king of drunken hook-ups?”

“Which is why I know how it feels to do something stupid!”

“Well, I’m sorry that I’m just something you’re going to regret,” Kurt snaps.

“Kurt, that’s…”

“No, it’s okay,” Kurt interrupts, “I didn’t mean… Can I still take you up on that offer of pyjamas? ”

“Sure,” Sebastian replies quietly, taking out a T-shirt that reads ‘Lycee Saint-Gabriel’ on the front in silver and a pair of cotton shorts from his drawer.

“Bathroom’s through there.”

Kurt says thank you, more of a mumble than anything else, taking the pile of clothes from the bed where Sebastian had put them and shuffling into the bathroom, not bothering with the lock.

He shuffles back out of the bathroom in the same daze, seeing that Sebastian has changed into a worn t-shirt and shorts of his own. Sebastian comes over to him, holding a glass of water. “Here” he says, handing the glass over and popping out two small pills from the packet in his left hand. Kurt looks at him suspiciously, wondering why Sebastian is going to such lengths to make sure he’s okay when there’s nothing in it for him, except someone to make out with, maybe.

“Kurt, just take them.” Kurt does, sitting down on Sebastian’s bed to do so.

Then, before he can stop himself, Sebastian leans in, and there’s no other word for it, pecks Kurt’s lips lightly, almost tenderly, and doesn’t feel the slightest bit of revulsion at his actions, although it has the undesirable effect of reminding him of another time, with another boy with dark black hair, who he spent so many afternoons kissing.

Sebastian is stopped from leaving the bed completely by a warm hand around his wrist.

“No, stay,” says Kurt, for all the world sounding as if he really means it. It would be so easy for Sebastian to stay, to touch Kurt as he wants to, as he has wanted to since that day in the locker-room.

“The bed’s big enough for both of us, it’s wider than mine anyway,” Kurt attempts nonchalance, but both boys know it’s a lie. Sebastian is still uncharacteristically hesitant.

“O-okay,” he agrees, putting on a game smile, then takes the side nearest the wall, still facing the bed’s other occupant.

“Umm, night then.”

“Good night Kurt,” Sebastian yawns, his eyes close and he drifts contentedly into sleep.

********

Kurt wakes up on Saturday morning with the distinct feeling some verminous creature has died in his mouth. The sun through the window is bright, doing nothing for his headache, yet the sun is not the reason Kurt is overheated. He, Kurt Hummel, is lying with his head on Sebastian Smythe’s chest, his right leg thrown over Sebastian’s, with the other boy’s arm across his lower back. Oh god. He remembers the majority of last night; losing at fuzzy duck more times than he can count; Dean’s bad dinosaur jokes; the kissing, oh god the kissing, how stupid can he be? He’s meant to like Blaine, he does like Blaine (but Blaine doesn’t like him), he can’t just give up so easily and crawl into another boy’s bed, especially one who has been pestering him the way Sebastian has. He feels a little coil of shame knot in his stomach. his dad’s advice on making it matter has gone to waste, before Kurt’s mind supplies him with a memory of the previous night. The boys are lying on this very bed, their kisses are feather light, Sebastian raises a hand to brush a strand of hair from his eyes and Kurt is mesmerized by the almost fond look in Sebastian’s eyes as he does so.

Then Kurt remembers how they had been stopped from going further by Sebastian, and the feeling of shame deepens. Sebastian wakes, momentarily seeming to forget that he has company, but Kurt is already out of bed and looking down at the clothes Sebastian had loaned him, knowing that he owes the other boy. Kurt snatches up his uniform and backs toward the door before Sebastian can even rub the sleep from his eyes.

“Wait, Kurt, come on,” Sebastian groans, having to stop himself from telling Kurt he’s being stupid. “You want coffee?”

Kurt narrows his eyes suspiciously at the boy, “You’ve got this routine down to an art!”

“Wow, that’s a bit unfair.” Sebastian tries to sound amicable, but only manages angry and hurt.

“Well, you got what you wanted. I’m going to go now, wouldn’t want to keep you from telling all your lacrosse teammates about how repulsive it was to have me in your bed,” sneers Kurt, sounding upset himself which confuses Sebastian even more.

“What?”

“It’s nice to know I’m so disgusting that not even Sebastian Smythe will sleep with me!” Kurt is shocked that he let himself say that, but something is making him feel particularly venomous, angrier than he has been since he came to Dalton.

“It wasn’t like that at all! It’s just that you’re….”

“A virgin? Well I’m sorry my virginity offends you!”

“Kurt, don’t be overdramatic…” Sebastian rushes to say, but it is too late. Kurt has gone.

***********

Kurt tries his best to forget about the events of the previous night, heading to the library to return some books he’s taken out for his English class. He tries to assess whether he’s being talked about by any of the others in the library; it wouldn’t be any different to what he was used to at Mckinely, except that Karofsky and his goons has never bothered to lower their voices, so being talked about without knowing what was being said would be a whole new low. While thinking about this, Kurt realizes he’s blocking the aisle of books and that someone is politely trying to move past. Kurt looks up and sees it’s only David.

David laughs, “You look out of it, are you regretting drinking so much last night?”

“What?” says Kurt dazedly, “I didn’t drink that much!”

David laughs again, this time a little louder, almost attracting the attention of Mrs Brice, the librarian.

“You had at least five cups of that death punch. I did tell Nathan to stop refilling everyone’s glasses when they weren’t looking! Anyway, did you and Sebastian have fun after I left?”

“What?” Kurt repeats, feeling a bit stupid but still shocked the news has already reached David, Kurt supposes it’s because his roommate is on the lacrosse team.

“It’s really nice you’re getting closer to Sebastian, Kurt” David says, without a trace of sarcasm or innuendo, “I shouldn’t really be telling you this, but he had a really hard time in Paris, so it’s nice to see he has someone he can actually talk to.”

“It’s not really like that, David,” Kurt sighs.

“Because you like Blaine?”

Kurt sighs again.

“You’re not the first, lots of people have carried torches for Blaine, and he’s been oblivious to all of them, even those that tried being more blatant.” David looks at Kurt significantly, as if Kurt even needs to guess who he’s alluding to, “Of course they never succeed; when Blaine gets a crush on someone, it’s permanent.”

“I don’t understand though, the flirting, he always seemed to mean it, I didn’t imagine it in my head this time!”

“Maybe so, but if you keep dwelling on it, you might be giving up something that’s staring you in the face… Well, bye Kurt”

David moves away further into the library while Kurt tries to puzzle out what David has just said, but all he can think of is David as Dumbledore, which causes him to start laughing under his breath, earning himself another glare from Mrs Brice.

It’s just Kurt’s luck that Sebastian shows up when Kurt is researching his history paper (a 1500 word argument on the causes of the thirty years war, due next Monday ) dressed in his sports kit, as if fresh from practice. Thinking about ignoring the other boy, Kurt slides out a book on the conflict, wedged incorrectly between two biographies of Frederick of the Palatinate. He decides against it though, preferring to confront Sebastian, and make sure he wasn’t telling everyone that he’d had to turn down a desperately pathetic Kurt Hummel. He wants to be able to walk into Warbler practice with some remaining dignity.

“What are you doing, Symthe?” hisses Kurt, wheeling round to face Sebastian.

After Kurt had stormed out that morning, Sebastian had decided not to go after Kurt; he’d already learned to his cost that people believed whatever they wanted to believe, whether he liked it or not. He was not going to rise to the bait.

Kurt seems quite happy to continue though, “It didn’t take long for you to tell everyone, even David knows, how am I supposed -”

“Kurt!”

“- to walk into Warbler practice tomorrow when -”

“KURT!” and that’s enough to stop Kurt’s diatribe dead in its tracks.

“David knows because he saw the way we were with each other before he went to bed last night! He came to my room this morning after you left and threatened to break my legs if I hurt you!”

“What?” It seemed to Kurt that he was saying this a lot lately, and he wondered if he ever looked as confused as Finn did when he said it. “You haven’t told anyone?”

Color was rising to Sebastian’s cheeks, whether out of embarrassment or anger Kurt didn’t know.

“I’m sorry I assumed you’d told everyone, but you can’t really blame me - everyone knows who you’ve slept with, and about -”

Not letting Kurt finish his sentence, Sebastian grabs Kurt by the wrist and drags him through the un-alarmed fire door nearby before Kurt’s brain even realizes what’s going on. ,

“I thought after the Sam thing that you would make a point of not assuming things about me?” Sebastian snaps, dropping Kurt’s wrist as if it has burned him.

Sebastian slumps down on a rickety bench, and Kurt goes with him, wanting to apologize for doing something that had been done so oftento him at Mckinely.

“I know, I haven’t exactly been silent about my previous….”

“…..conquests” supplies Kurt matter-of-factly.

Sebastian shuffles round on the bench so he is facing Kurt. “But I wouldn’t tell anyone what happened last night, I’m not spiteful, I’m not that guy.”

Kurt’s eyes narrow, not knowing whether he should sarcastically thank Sebastian for being the exception to his bragging rule.

Sebastian’s voice takes on a softer quality, “I wouldn’t take advantage of you like that.”

“Because I’m a virgin?! I heard seducing virgins was your specialty!” From the moment he says it, Kurt knows he has said something really awful.

Sebastian gets up. “Fuck you!” he shouts, not caring who will hear; they’re both going to get detention for going out through the fire door anyway. Sebastian knows he has to get away from here before he says something he’ll regret. He only gets a few steps away before he ends up saying it anyway. “You know what? You think you see things differently, but you’re just as bad everyone else in this dump of a school - too quick to jump to conclusions without even bothering to find out the facts!”

Kurt just stands there, stunned.

“What, Kurt?” Sebastian forges, on not caring if Kurt wants to hear it or not, “For your information, since I know you’re just dying to ask, no, I didn’t seduce Lucent.”

“But it is true, you were caught with him?” Kurt doesn’t know if this is the right question to ask, but Sebastian has no qualms in answering it.

“Lucent’s father, his father was the directeur of the school, and after he caught us, he concocted the story that I seduced his son to appease the school’s benefactors, and I was expelled.”

Kurt realizes two things in very quick succession; one is that Sebastian, king of the cast-iron exterior seems to be blinking back tears, and two, that he, Kurt Hummel, is a grade-A idiot.

“You really liked him didn’t you?”

Sebastian doesn’t answer Kurt in words, but his baleful look is answer enough.

“So last night you actually… you really….” Kurt stutters, “…me?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” jokes Sebastian, scrubbing a hand through his hair awkwardly. “Sorry,” Sebastian begins to apologize, but Kurt is laughing, a laugh that sounds clear and bright in Sebastian’s ears.

This time, the kiss is the product of them both leaning in. It’s not possessive, but gentle, testing; the first tentative foot in a lake with as yet undefined boundaries, whose depths could be mired with sharp rocks and pieces of glass.

Sebastian thinks back to that day in the locker room. “How about that date then?” he says teasingly, beaming when Kurt rolls his eyes in response.

“I’d like that”, he replies at last, taking the two founders day tickets out of his blazer pocket and holding them up so Sebastian can see.

“Really Kurt? I have it on good authority Founders Day is unbelievably boring,” Sebastian jokes.

Kurt returns the huge grin Sebastian is giving him, “I’m sure I can find a way to make it worth your while.” Kurt smirks; Sebastian rolls his eyes at the impression. David stands in front of the see-through panel in the fire escape door, and chuckles fondly at the sight; it was about damn time.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations: ‘no kidding, I swear he gets more grumpy ever semester’
> 
> ‘Some of us haven’t had the opportunity to go to school in paris’


End file.
